Chapter 2
LEAVE YOUR COMFORT ZONE

"Failure is success in progress."

-Albert Einstein

Before going any further into how to begin building your personal brand, it's important that you understand that you don't have to have accomplished something remarkable to build one-you can start from nothing. I know this because I started from nothing. I hope this story of my beginning shatters any reluctance you feel and replaces it with relentless optimism.

I never viewed myself as someone exceptional. I didn't view myself as someone who had the "gift of the gab," and I certainly didn't see myself as some kind of guru. What I did have however was the willingness to summon the courage to wander in a direction I'd never gone in before. I needed to leave my comfort zone, and I learned that I needed to get comfortable with leaving it, constantly.

I was tired of "playing it safe" and feeling that I needed to find the perfect plan for where I should begin. I decided to start seeking a healthy relationship with failure as a necessity to my journey and all the valuable lessons that came with it. I was willing to take complete responsibility for my life. Finally, I was willing to go all out with everything I had for 90 days as an experiment, with an open mind to see what was possible.

This is my story of how I went from basement to boardroom.

Finding My Basement

I checked the fuel gauge every two minutes, adjusting my speed to make sure I didn't burn more fuel than was needed. Burning extra fuel would mean digging into our weekly grocery money to pay for it. My fiancée, Elli, and I were already struggling to make ends meet with our combined debt and two average-paying wages. We were on a two-hour road trip, driving in the morning from the Sunshine Coast to Brisbane, Australia, heading to a keynote event to see Gary Vaynerchuck (known as Gary Vee).

For those who don't know, Gary Vee is an entrepreneur who owns his own media agency called VaynerMedia. He rose to success after starting his own YouTube channel called WineLibraryTV, where he produced an episode every day for almost five years straight. He began to give keynotes in 2008, wrote his own successful book in 2009, and went on to become a very successful thought leader in the entrepreneurial space. His following has grown to such an extent that he now dominates Instagram, YouTube, LinkedIn, and TikTok. As with my lifelong goal of running a successful agency, Gary's life ambition is to buy the New York Jets.

Anyway, my friend Rob had convinced me to go to Gary's event. But, despite being a huge fan of Gary Vee, I was initially annoyed that I'd agreed. Why was I wasting our precious hard-earned money on fuel to get there?

Frustrated with myself, my thoughts wandered to how I should get a second job-as a night janitor, maybe?-so we could get ahead a bit. I felt like I was failing Elli. I hated that we spent our evenings together deciding toward which debt we should put every cent we'd earned. With every new payday, every dollar was pre-allocated. And yet here we were, wasting fuel.

Staring at the highway ahead, I wondered why we were going. I dreamed of owning a business, but how could I start a company if I couldn't even put food on the table? What kind of business could I possibly start? Where should I start? And shouldn't I conquer my debt before branching into the world of business?

At the time I sold mobile phones. Before that, I managed a gym location for a franchise. The founder had promised me equity in the franchise if I could commit to several years at one of his locations. I'd agreed but then pulled out; it just didn't feel like the right industry for me. (Not to mention, I'd be committing to two years in a small country town for just 10% equity in a gym that was in the red every month.) To invest so much time for such little reward at too high a risk-it just didn't add up. There had to be a better way.

If I hadn't agreed to go to this event-that I'll admit, Rob had demanded I attend-Elli and I would have ventured to second-hand stores to buy wooden tables for about $25. Back at home in our garage, I'd sand them by hand, give them a fresh lick of paint, and then sell them online for $200 to $300 a pop-which was just enough every week to put an extra dent in our debt. "But you have to go," Rob insisted. "It's Gary, man!" so I obliged and reluctantly spent the $390 for tickets to attend "Success Resources 2019," which felt like all the money we had.

Arriving at the event, packed with over 5,000 guests, I swiveled my head in amazement. I was here now, and eager to learn-pen and paper in hand-so I started jotting down notes from each speaker. But before long, I stopped taking notes. Speaker after speaker, all entrepreneurs, berated the audience with their sales pitches, bootcamps, and programs. After each talk, the stage filled with people making testimonials about how the last speaker had "changed their life," and if it weren't for them, they would never have succeeded. And-as long as I had $15,000 or so to invest, I could be "just like them!" But $15,000 was an impossible feat for us at that time. Disengaging from the spectacle, I shifted my attention to the energy of the room. After five hours of this onslaught, the audience sat there with their arms crossed, their faces frowned, totally unmoved.

But one speaker did grab my attention, someone whose books I'd enjoyed, promoting a bootcamp at a discount that lasted exclusively for the next five minutes: Grant Cardone. Elli whispered, "You should do it. You love him, and you've always said if he ever comes to Australia you'd go." With Elli's encouragement, and "only four more minutes!" I decided: "Fuck it, maybe this is what I need to do!"

I ran over to the kiosk where an attendee was handing out paperwork. When I asked about payment plans she replied, "Sure! Just four installments of $3,500 on a biweekly repayment." My jaw hit the floor, my excitement crushed. I really wanted to go but I just couldn't afford it.

Elli immediately "needed to go to the bathroom"-which I found out later meant that she cried for 45 minutes in that bathroom, feeling guilty about our combined debt and ashamed that she couldn't help me. "The look on your face broke my heart," she said. "We're in this together," I replied. "We'll figure something out."

I returned to my seat, humiliated, frustrated, beetroot red, even considering leaving early. My heart sank as my head raced; I'd wasted $390 on tickets, $55 on fuel, $10 on coffee, and a whole day that I could have spent making a table to flip for $300. I was down $755. Which meant another week of budgeting food and clock-watching my fuel gauge.

I walked out to the foyer to blow another $5 on coffee to distract myself. I thought, "Why am I so upset? It's just a bootcamp, dude; get over it. So what if you can't afford it; just go home and keep doing what you're doing." But something interesting happened at that moment. I decided, rather than deflect my pain and distract myself . maybe I should sit with it. Maybe I should reflect on this and listen to my emotions, maybe there was a lesson to be learned in all of this.

I decided to lean into it. I sat with my emotions and asked myself, "Yeah . why am I upset?" I waited, feeling humiliation in my chest, feeling my blood pumping in frustration. I sat in my pain and confronted it-this feeling that had been hidden under the surface for so long that I'd always ignored but now was very loud and unavoidable. I replied to myself, "I don't want to feel like this ever again. I don't want to be humiliated and not to be able to afford something I desperately want ever again. I never want to be broke again. It's time to approach things differently. It's time to get off your ass and do something about it. Then I heard a voice saying, "Dain . Dain ." My order was ready.

As the barista handed me my latte, I heard a huge commotion. I turned to watch people flooding back into the room like a herd of buffalo, hundreds cramming through the door into the event. Gary Vee was up next. Rather than returning to our seats I stood at the back of the room with my coffee. Gary ran out on stage and opened: "What's up, Brisbane?!" followed by a roaring standing ovation. He leaned over the edge of the stage and said, smiling, "Guess what?! I'm not here to sell you shit!" Boom! He immediately had my attention.

The room had gone from snoozeville to electrified. All seats were filled, the aisles lined with people from the stage to the back of the room. After an entire day of speakers, each with a suit, a keynote, a laser pointer, and testimonials, here was Gary, in a snapback, sneakers, and a pair of jeans. All Gary did was share his story for 10 minutes-no keynote slides or anything-then proceeded with Q&A for more than two hours. The audience was in pure anticipation the entire time, standing on their seats, filming on their phones, furiously writing...